


see the stars (run with them)

by perihelion (mattratat)



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, angst fluff then ANGST AGAIN but then fluff again, ren? writing a stargazing fic? wild., yeah baby this shit is CANON VERSE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 22:09:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21043571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mattratat/pseuds/perihelion
Summary: They’d had this conversation before. So many times now. How many nights had she found him, terrified to turn off his lights and staring in mirrors, terrified that his eyes would become yellow if he looked away for more than a second? More than he could count. And always, always, she told him to let her in. To let her help. That she wanted to.Or: Fears, nightmares shared under the stars, and a deal.





	see the stars (run with them)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lechatnoir](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lechatnoir/gifts).

> for michi!

Tears spilled down his cheeks, but he kept his jaw clenched tightly, as tight as he could manage, desperate to keep from making a sound. He couldn’t- he couldn’t burden them with this, with this  _ too _ , with the worry and pity and  _ god forbid _ the bitterness he knew was buried in their hearts. They’d never say it, never dare to tell him, but he knew. They were too good, too kind to admit it, but he felt it in the lingering gazes, the hushed murmurs that followed him. He couldn’t take back the things he’d done, no matter how much his heart ached, no matter how many nights he lie away choking on the darkness as it filled his throat, holding him down and telling him of all the terrible things he’d done, of the people he’d hurt. He could never take it back, but this? This was his cross to bear. 

The door creaked, and he felt the temptation to pull his blanket over his face, to hide his anger and suffering under it, the temptation to press the pillow to his face and suffocate with his misery. He settled for throwing his arm over his eyes, because there was nothing else he could do. He didn’t want her to see him in a moment of weakness, not now, not again. Because he didn’t deserve the pity, he didn’t deserve the sad looks and warm touches and- 

“Terra?” 

It was Aqua- of course it was. It was always Aqua. Aqua, pulling him back from the darkness. Aqua, holding his hand when he felt like it was going to overwhelm him again. Aqua, who could stop his spiralling with just a look. Aqua, who he loved and who he had hurt. 

“Yeah?” He answered, hating how rough his voice sounded. He sounded weak. He hated it. He couldn’t bring himself to look up and meet her eyes. He wished, for once, that he could sleep with the lights off; it would be too dark to see her if he didn’t have to keep them on. 

“I can’t sleep,” she declared, and he felt the bed next to him sink under a new pressure. He wanted to reach out, to pull her down into his arms, to hold her and never let go. But he didn’t. “And I know you can’t either.” 

“That obvious?” He asked, even though he knew that, yes, it was. 

“Mhm,” she answered. 

They sat in silence for a few moments. Terra’s eyes were starting to dry, which he was forever thankful for, but he knew that his scratchy voice would betray him if he spoke too much. And she’d already done so much for him, even after he’d forsaken her, that he couldn’t bare the thought of letting her comfort him now. 

Thankfully, she spoke before the silence became awkward. “Do you remember what Eraqus used to do when neither of us could sleep?” 

He did. 

Nodding, he said, “Take us outside to see the stars?” 

He shifted his arm away in time to see her nodding. She held out her hand to him. “Come on.” 

He eyed her hand for a moment, scared that he would crush her tiny palm in his, but she gave him a look and he nodded, taking it. 

Before, he would have cracked a joke about feeling foolish as she led him out of his room and would have loosely held onto her grasp. 

Now, he held onto her small, but immeasurably strong hand and prayed he wouldn’t crush it with his tight grasp. 

As they passed Ventus’ door, Terra noticed that the light was still on. He tugged gently at Aqua’s hand, nodding at it. She shook her head, pressing a finger to her lips. 

When they were far enough down the hall, she said, “He sleeps with it on now. I checked earlier, he was out like a light.” 

Terra nodded. He tried not to feel too guilty about that. It was hard, though, to not feel guilty when every bad thing that had happened could be traced back to his mistakes. But he didn’t want Aqua to shoulder the burden of his misery any more than she already had, so all he said was, “At least someone is getting some sleep.” 

She looked over her shoulder to smile at him and for the first time of the night, some of the darkness lifted from Terra’s heart. Her smile, he swore, had healing properties all on its own. It was a miracle and a privilege to be on the receiving end of it once more. “He needs it.” 

And he did. Ventus had been moving nonstop since they’d returned home, spending nearly every day on a mission off world, often leaving for days at a time to help Riku on his search to find Sora, or at the labs in Radiant Garden trying to learn everything that he could about being split from Vanitas. Terra found it hard to imagine that he was anything other than completely exhausted by the time that he finally did get around to sleeping. Of course, being asleep was its own special kind of nightmare for Ventus know. 

That didn’t stop either Terra or Aqua from worrying about him, though. 

Still, they quickly moved on, not wanting to wake him from the precious few hours of rest he was hopefully getting. 

It didn’t take long to reach the front door, despite the enormity of the building. They both still, somehow, knew it inside and out. 

Terra tried not to think about whether or not that would ever change. He wasn’t sure he could handle that. Then again, it wasn’t like his tolerance for pain was at an all time high right now. He’d already cried once that night, so surely it wouldn’t be too much of a surprise if it happened again. 

But, god, was he embarrassed of it. Now that he was coming into the courtyard with Aqua, her hand locked with his and the warm breeze of summer gently pressing against his skin, he knew that he was strong. That he could deal with this so the others wouldn’t half to. It was always just so… overwhelming when he was alone. 

“We made it!” Aqua cheered quietly. Terra wondered if he should let go of her hand. He decided not to. 

“Yeah!” he answered her call enthusiastically, a little louder now that they were outside and there was hopefully less risk of waking Ven. 

“Now, look up,” she instructed, tilting her head towards the sky. 

The stars lit up the night sky over them, a sight that might be breath taking in its beauty if Terra had taken the time to look at them instead of watching how their light made Aqua’s blue eyes gleam silver, how they lit up her soft smile as she gazed up at them. To Terra, that was far more breathtaking than any natural wonder could ever hope to be. 

“Do you remember the constellations he used to show us?” she asked, looking over just as Terra moved to quickly look away, not wanting to get caught staring. She probably knew, though. She always knew. 

“No,” he admitted, happiness flooding his heart when she laughed quietly in response. “Not at all.”

“Me neither,” she told him. 

In a way, that surprised him. Aqua was always the one who hung onto every last word Eraqus had to say. She was the dutiful pupil, the one who had all the answers and listened when she was supposed to. 

But in a way, she wasn’t. She’d changed, just as they all had. She was still dutiful and headstrong, but she asked more questions, fought back on orders more. She listened more than ever and now she responded. 

“I think he made them up himself, anyways,” she added, pulling Terra from his thoughts. 

He snorted, nodding as he finally gazed upwards towards the stars. There were so many of them, more than he ever remembered seeing. Maybe he’d been paying worse attention back then than he’d realized. “Definitely. Maybe on the spot.” 

“Maybe we should make up some new ones,” Aqua suggested. 

Terra glanced over her, finding her eyes already on him. He blanked for a moment under the intensity of her gaze before remembering that speaking might be the right thing to do now. “I don’t really have any ideas.” 

“That’s okay,” she said, “I’ll start and we can go from there.” 

She turned her eyes towards the sky again, pushing her bangs behind her ear to keep them out of the way. Terra wished he could push them away for her, imagined the soft touch of his fingers brushing against her forehead and the weight of her forehead on his shoulder as they sat beside each other. 

He was so gone for her. He had been for years. He’d given up denying that long ago, even when they were fighting. 

“But, my neck is getting tired,” she said, interrupting his thoughts for the tenth time that night, dropping down onto the ground and laying on her back. Patting the ground next to her, she said, “So get down here.” 

He did as he was told. 

Aqua hummed to fill the silence, most likely trying to find a constellation to show him. Terra, for his part, tried to do the same, staring at the twinkling stars. There were so many of them and he stared as hard as he could, but it took a moment for patterns to emerge. Slowly, he could see a hundred designs, overlapping and changing in front of his eyes as they twinkled above them. It was the same feeling of awe as seeing the sun set over a beautiful ocean or Aqua’s smile first thing in the morning. 

“There!” Terra exclaimed, hoping that he didn’t startle Aqua with the outburst. He pointed and hoped she was following along. “See?” 

“Oh, yeah,” she said. He could hear the bluff in her voice like second nature. 

“Liar,” he accused her easily. “Follow my finger. See? It’s a rabbit.” 

Aqua seemed to really, really try to see it. After a moment, Terra sighed, but it wasn’t out of malice. 

“Here,” he said, slowly moving his finger to trace a pattern. “There’s the ears.” 

“Ohhhhh,” Aqua drawled. “I think I kind of see it.” 

Terra laughed, and she laughed a little, too, a light musical sound that made his heart swell with so much affection that it was nearly unbearable. “See! It’s not so hard. You try.” 

“I don’t see any patterns,” Aqua admitted. 

“You’re overthinking it. Just think of something and the stars will do the work for you,” Terra said. That’s what he had done, after all. “There’s so many possibilities.” 

“I know this was my idea,” she said, “But I really suck at this.” 

Terra shook his head. “You’ve never sucked at anything before in your life.” 

There was a pause before Aqua said, “Except saving you.” 

Terra blinked, his breath catching in his throat. Is that what she thought? Sure, he’d suspected it, but… It was hard to imagine Aqua- powerful, confident, headstrong Aqua- doubting herself. “There was nothing you could have done.” 

“I don’t know.” 

She sounded so sad. His hands itched with the need to turn and pull her into his arms, to hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay? Before, he would have easily. Now, he didn’t know what to do. He was so afraid that he’d end up hurting her again that he was paralyzed in place, staring up at the stars with watery eyes. 

How could he tell her that she’d saved his life over and over and over again? That while he was trapped in his own mind, screaming constantly as he watched his hands committing atrocities over and over and  _ over _ again for years that she was the only thing that kept him from going completely sane? That just the mere thought of getting to see her, talk to her, hug her at least one more time was the only thing that kept him from completely giving up hope? 

“And you saved me in the end,” he said, because it was all the words he could muster. 

“That was Ven,” she countered. 

“And you saved me every day until then, too,” Terra managed to get out, because he wasn’t the best at explaining his feelings, but by god he was trying. 

“Oh.” 

Neither of them seemed to know what to say after that, so they lapped into silence, simply enjoying the night together. Terra kept looking towards the stars, trying to make them into more cohesive patterns to show her, to pull the crushing weight off of his chest and shoulders.

“So what was bugging you earlier?” Aqua asked a few minutes into the quiet. 

“It isn’t your problem,” Terra said, admittedly regretting when it came out far more aggressively than he meant it to. “I- I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to have to deal with my problems. I’ve already done so much.” 

Aqua seemed to mull that over in her mind. They’d had this conversation before. So many times now. How many nights had she found him, terrified to turn off his lights and staring in mirrors, terrified that his eyes would become yellow if he looked away for more than a second? More than he could count. And always,  _ always, _ she told him to let her in. To let her help. That she wanted to. 

And the thing was, he knew that she meant it. That she would be there for him, no matter what, without hesitation. Maybe that was the worst part. That she was so selfless, that he needed the help. It was all terrible. 

He wanted to take it all back. To go back, to- 

“I’m tired of telling you that I want to help,” Aqua sighed, cutting his thoughts off with a sigh. Terra’s heart twisted, but she kept going, saying, “I know you won’t let me.”

“Aqua-” 

“No, listen to me,” she cut him off verbally now, but it wasn’t unkindly. “I know you won’t let me in. And I’m not mad, so don’t apologize.” 

Terra closed his mouth. 

“So I say we make a deal,” she said. 

“A deal?” he echoed. 

“Yeah.” 

He wished they weren’t staring at the stars. He wished he could see her face, to be able to read what she was thinking on the curve of her lips, the tilt of her eyebrows, the emotion in her soft blue eyes. He’d always been so good at reading her expressions, and she’d always shared them so openly, that it was strange to be having a conversation like this without being able to see her face. 

“Like what?” he asked. It seemed like a fair question. 

“Well, since you won’t let me in on your problems, and I won’t let you in on mine, it’s probably only going to work if we both stop being stubborn,” she answered. “You tell me what’s bugging you, I tell you what’s bugging me.”

It didn’t seem like much of a deal to Terra. It just sounded like better communication. But, somehow, calling it a deal did make it sound a little bit easier. And he wanted to know, more than anything, what problems were plaguing Aqua. What he could do to help, what burdens he could possibly shoulder… 

He knew he sounded a little ( a lot ) hypocritical. Oops. “That sounds… alright.” 

“Do we have a deal them? I’ll let you in if you let me in?” she asked.

Terra nodded before realizing she probably couldn’t tell. “Yeah.” 

“Good. Now, come here,” she said, gently tugging his arm so that she could rest with her head in the crook of his shoulder, her body pressed against his and her hand curled on his chest. He froze, tensing at such close contact, but he quickly forced himself to relax as his limbs remembered that  _ hey, this is Aqua. _ “I want to look at the stars some more. And maybe catch a few nap.” 

Terra smiled. “Yeah, okay.” 

And he realized, as the grass slowly started to make the spot where his sweatshirt had rolled up and away from his pajama pants started to itch, and as his eyelids began to grow heavy and his blinks got longer and longer, with Aqua tucked quietly against him, the sound of her breathing the sweetest lullaby that he’d ever heard, that for the first time since returning home, he felt something a little like peace. They weren’t okay. They hadn’t been okay for a long, long time. But they would be, someday. 

**Author's Note:**

> thanks so much for reading!! have a great day!!
> 
> twitter: @vanitashours


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